No Accident
by HeartCurl23
Summary: America just treated today like a normal day until later that same morning when four of his buildings burned down. Every year on the anavercery he visits the land marks where his buildings once stood. Just like the rest of his citizens, it's impossable to forget.


America was simply talking with England about work stuff, while still being his annoying, abnoxious self. The last thing he expected was the sharp pain he felt in his arm at exactly 8:46 a.m. his time, not long after he arrived and began to pester him. England was quick to aid him as he crumpled to the floor in pain. "America! What happened?!"

"T...terrorists..." he groaned as the pain consumed his arm from his shoulder to his finger tips. Hurriedly, England took a medical wrap and began to dress America's arm, trying to sooth his cries of pain. Not long he gasped at another sharp pain shooting up his other arm at 9:03 a.m. his time. "Both towers are burning! Falling apart!" he cried in pain. "...My citizens..." he grunted. "...They're terrorfied."

"Calm down." The Brit soothed, begining to wrap the other arm. "It will be over soon. Give it an hour, maybe two, it'll faid eventually."

America shook his head as sweat trickled down his face. "...no... This is the worst terrorist attack I've ever felt...most tragic in my whole history..."

"Don't say that." England sighed as he wiped the sweat from his forhead. "It's just two towers, what harm is it that a plane crashed. It might have been an accident."

"NO!" he screamed, shaking his head wildly. "It wasn't an accident. I've had plane crash accidents before, they happen almost as commonly as car wrecks. If it was an accident, then I wouldn't've felt this much pain, shock...fear..."

With both of America's arms in bandages from shoulders to fingers, he sat there on England's couch, completely forgeting the whole reason he was there in the first place. Half an hour later, at 9:37 a.m. his time, America screamed as another pain shot in his stomach, clutching his abdomin in a weak attempt to sooth the pain. "...The Pentagon..." he groaned when England looked at him worriedly.

Hearing this, England sat on the couch with him and gave him a side hug. "Remember, you're not alone." he stated. "Every country at some point has terrorist attacks. It just shows you how much of a threat others view you because of how much of an independent world power you become."

America looked at his older brother with a pained, strained smile on his face as he rubbed his back. "That's one way to sugar coat it." he humorlessly chuckled.

England shrugged. "To have a little brother like you, you need some sugar to get the medicine down, at least a spoonful."

"Alright Marry Poppins." he chuckled before his attention returned to his problem. "Normally, my terrorist attacks go to..." he stopped right there. "...Washington...my capitol..."

He then braced himelf for the skull spliting, claw sharp pain in his head, but was surprised when the half hour passed and none came. Instead, at 10:03 a.m. his time, the pain was in his back instead of his head. It was just as intence as the first three, but also completely unexpected. When America snapped his back from the couch and howled in pain, England took a step back, hoping he didn't hit an unknown preasure point on his back in his attempt to ease his pain. America breathed hevilly as he stated, "...Pennsylvania...that's what was hit."

"So...the attack is over?"

"I don't know." the teen country answered. A few hours later, there was no more unexpected pains, and his arms, stomach, and back were simply soar when he decided to go home. With a sigh, America looked at his calender and circled the date. Tuesday, September 11, 2001.

As years passed, it was simply known as 9-11, but every year, he remembers the terror. It's hard to forget that kind of fear, pain, and unexpectancy. There hasn't been one year since that regretful day that America didn't visit the newly built memorial in New York in the place of the Twin Towers.

A lot of people see the memorial as just another park with random square waterfalls. Some of them didn't know about the attack, others forgot already. But to this day, on Wensday, September 11, 2013, Alfred F. Jones still remembers to intence pain of losing the structures he lost that day twelve years ago. He's surprised anyone could forget, or "throw under the rug" the attacks that cost all Americans the Twin Towers and several thousand lives.

What he doesn't quite understand is that, though other Americans don't make a big celabration out of it like the 4th of July, his citizens could never forget what the terrorists took from them and celabrate 9-11 in the little things they do every year to honor those who sacrificed their lives for the good of the country. No one could ever forget.


End file.
